Category Archives: Around home

A New Phone (that I would rather talk about than Florida)

My trusty smartphone’s battery was going and, rather than fix the battery, I went for an upgrade. I originally got an HTC because, in 2012, it was rated as the best Android phone. I also liked that it was Taiwanese and, probably, not made by slave labor at Foxconn. I loved that phone even when it got old and, while I am not a heavy phone user – or even, I suspect, an average user – I still loved the way the HTC looked, with its tapered sides and solid, metal, construction. When I got a new phone, I got another HTC because, probably, I am stubborn and,  at $600, it was 25% cheaper than the Samsung and Google equivalents. I also figured it would work well with Google Assistant – Google’s Siri equivalent – because HTC built the first Google Pixel and Google has invested $1.1 billion in HTC. 

So I now have the new phone and it is a disappointing experience. The problem with buying any replacement phone or a camera, for that matter, is that they always do what the old phone/camera did…only slightly better (in this case, I prefer the looks of the old phone which doesn’t help). Yeah, I can conveniently play Alison Wonderland on Spotify through the livingroom speakers but I could do that on my old phone too. However, what this phone does have is Google Assistant and I am warming up to saying “OK Google, phone Michele” and having it actually happen. A couple of days ago, Michele and I were having a Siri/OK Google talk off, I had just opened OK Google when Michele said “Hey Siri” and then, seeing I had opened Google, said, “Oh, sorry.” OK Google said, “That’s OK, don’t be sorry. I admire Siri, in fact, I wrote her a poem.” My old phone couldn’t do that.  

It’s moth season in Portola Valley

According to Bug Guide, the season for the California Oak Moth – Phryganidia californica, as if you care – is March to November. December through February should be too cold for them to be out. But it is about 70° outside and we haven’t had a night that dropped below freezing all winter. In the Sierras, there is almost no snow, less than 4% of normal near Tahoe, and the Department of Water Resources says that it is too early to say we are in a drought which I’m going to take as We are in a drought, almost for sure.

Climate projection and long-range weather predictions are very inexact sciences and, it seems, at some level, the decision has been made to underestimate the changes we are going through. I can, kind of, sort of, understand that because, if “Officials” overreact, the climate deniers will say, See, they are just trying to scare you (so they will get paid more or the Chinese will make money on unnecessary solar panels, or something other than “This is a real problem”). When we talk about a drought, we have the tendency to think rainfall and, especially, local rainfall but the lack of snow is the biggest problem. So far, this winter has just been too warm.  

 

Super Moon(s)

This year, as luck would have it, the last Super Moon of a cluster of three fell on Michele’s birthday. And to make it even more special, according to Michele, this Super Moon was a Blue Moon – meaning that it was the second Super Moon of the month – with a total eclipse that resulted in it being a Blood Moon just before the dawn of her birthday. If you are into that sort of thing, which I am not, but Michele is, it is almost too exciting to bear. The day before ended with a sweet sunset. On the West Coast, the moon eclipse was about five in the morning and Michele’s plan was to get up every hour starting about three. I slept so I can’t attest to how many times Michele got up, but about five she woke me and it was pretty terrific.

It was dark and cold, silent except for the sounds of a couple of owls, with a light fog layer hanging over the tidal flats of the upper Tomales Bay and, above that, was a red moon, much bigger and rounder than I expected. Michele took several pictures and this is the one I like best (BTW, Michele’s reflection is on purpose).      , 

 

The Post and the Women’s March

Michele and I saw The Post, the other night and I liked it, a lot. Maybe because it is political, maybe because it is a sort of homage to old-timey newspaper movies, but, mostly, I think because it is so comfortably familiar. I’m not normally a Steven Spielberg fan but he was the perfect director for this movie. The scenes of Merrill Streep walking into a room of all men, all in their dark power suits, seem so familiar  from my growing-up past and Streep’s tentative reaction is perfect. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t grow up in that environment, but I did grow up in an environment that was trying to ape that life. A life in which rich, cultivated, women were close to powerless but had the time and money to look great in their clothes. It was a time when a woman  being powerful was considered crass. Merrill Streep is great as one of these powerless women, Kay Graham – trusted only to manage the family while her husband was given a newspaper to run by her father – is forced to take control.  

This movie tells of a time, that seems longer ago than it was, when it wasn’t as obvious that men were killing the world (to paraphrase Mad Max Fury Road). It takes place in 1971 and Spielberg’s suburban, optimistic, sensibility is perfect for the time, giving us scenes like Graham leaving the supreme court and walking past a group of almost Rockwellian women, seemingly waiting for change. What a difference it was getting off Bart and going up an escalator into an immense crowd of, mostly women, who are no longer waiting; they want control now. Control of their bodies, control of their lives, and, I hope, control of the world.

Almost always, however, control is not freely given, it is seized. In this case, the only way to seize political power is through the ballot box and while slightly more women vote than men, only about 68% of women voted in 2016; I would guess that that number was considerably higher in this crowd. Everybody was in a celebratory mood and the most heartening thing to me was the high turnout of young women.